


When the day is over

by Hopeful_Foolx



Series: Bastards get to be soft sometimes [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Angst, Discussion of past character death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Kepler is in pain, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, and maybe on pain meds, concussion, post episode 47, post episode 47: into the depths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25766656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_Foolx/pseuds/Hopeful_Foolx
Summary: Kepler had a rough day. Jacobi too. Good thing they are both locked in the observation deck then? Talking happens.
Relationships: Daniel Jacobi/Warren Kepler
Series: Bastards get to be soft sometimes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972921
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	When the day is over

**Author's Note:**

> I relistened to the episode today for... some reason. I really think Kepler is a great character, a bastard-not-good-man, but a great character. The thing is, I hated him so much in the beginning, and then I learned about Mr. Cutter and suddenly he wasn't so bad anymore. Sounds screwed up? Yes, it is. Also, I wrote this down far too quickly, and English is not my first language, so I apologize for mistakes in advance.

They think he is in shock. Gave him an extra blanket, even, if he didn’t know they would rather see him dead, he would have even thought Minkowski looked worried for a moment. Maybe he is in shock, if he thinks like that. He is not. Is he? He knows the symptoms, the cold, sweating, dissociating. But he is in space so of course he is cold, and he is sweating because someone just disintegrated his fucking hand. The dissociating is even better, actually - is it from the head wound? Because he was thrown into a wall and had to wake up to Lovelace staring at him of all people? Lovelace, the alien, the duplicate. Who did this to him. When he awoke on the floor what must be minutes later, her face had been the last thing he wanted to see. The pain had kept him from scrambling back, but she seemed more concerned with… something else. And then there is Jacobi. Daniel hates him too now, but Kepler nearly passed back out from relief when he saw him. Speaking of - he had been returned to their ‘cell’ some time ago and only now he feels him staring. 

“How can I help you, Mr. Jacobi?” he asks after some time and after it becomes annoying.

“Cut the bullshit, Warren” Oh, first names. That could be interesting, if he actually had the energy to act his usual self. Not that he has. He is tired, he is tired and done and no, he would get up and put up a discussion if he could but it’s out of the question. 

“I assure you, it is cut” Long sentences and speeches are usually his topic, not now, however.

“Good” His voice is getting closer, “because I will deal with your lies and kick your ass later, when you don’t look like a fresh corpse anymore” Oh, yes, he supposes he does. His hand - no, his arm, the place where his hand had been, it didn’t bleed. His head did, though. He doesn’t really remember how he changed places, but how Minkowski talked to him while sewing the cut on his head closed. He doesn’t remember her words, but how she talked sternly. He doesn’t remember for how long he just lay here, but how someone said that he’d live. What a disappointment. Nobody said that out loud, of course. He managed to strap himself down to his cot, just enough to stop him from floating the whole time. No way he will restrain himself. In his current condition, there is a high chance he won’t be fast enough anyway.

“Who would have thought that?” 

“What did I just tell you?” If his head wasn’t imploding, he would roll his eyes now. 

“What do you want?” he finally opens his eyes to look at Daniel. His head is swimming, hurting, he sees two of him. Concussions are nothing new, not to him, not to Daniel either. Dealing with explosives gets you that. How long has it been? The SI-5 is not pretty work, never has been, Mr. Cutter has standards that are nearly impossible to meet, but Kepler, Maxwell and Jacobi are the space between _nearly_ and _impossible._

Well. Kepler and Jacobi now. And nearly only Jacobi, or only Kepler, or none of them. This will be how it ends, he thinks, with one of them left to return. Not what he thought this mission would be. Not that it ever had a chance to be easy, no, not that. But he thought… It would be different. He did expect problems, but not like this. Not Maxwell dying, not the Aliens shushing him. He expected them to cooperate even if he needed violence for that, he did not expect to lose. Right now it feels like he lost. It could be worse, maybe, they could have thrown him out of an airlock, but apparently, someone needed to show him that they have more humanity than him. They do, it’s never been a question and he has never really made a big deal out of it. But it leaves him here, on the observation deck, with a beautiful view of failure, on the piece of garbage that is the Hephaestus, laying on a cot that is more like a cocoon, with a pillow that sticks to his face and feels like rubber. Every movement is pain, and he would really like to die right now. He rarely feels sorry for himself, but sometimes he does and while he would never admit it, it actually helps. 

“See, this is why they say to never leave people with concussions alone” Jacobi is even closer now and his voice is too loud. Why can’t he leave? Right. They are locked in. He literally can’t, which doesn’t mean that he has to float this close to him. He does, he is literally as close as he can get, his feet under the cot so he won’t float away. Kepler eyes him suspiciously

“What?” his mouth is dry and he closes his eyes again, “You don’t have to fuss over _me_ , I guarantee you that you’ll notice when I’ll die” 

“You don’t have a plan, do you? You did not expect that. This is what you couldn’t foresee” They say that truth hurts most, right? 

“I have to admit… It’s not” If he moves now, he’ll throw up and this would mean losing the last bit of dignity he still has and also, throwing up on Jacobi. It’s not an option. So he just stays unmoving, like before, even if he normally wouldn’t talk to Jacobi like that. Especially not about important topics. They used to talk a lot more, until deep into the night, drinking whiskey and red wine, forgetting the horrors of their job. Not all of these nights ended in a bedroom, some of the best did not. Which is the special thing about Daniel - they can have fun in a lot of ways. Even while just talking, even with the most mundane of things. Here, it changed. It’s professionalism, and while he suspects Alana knows, no, knew, no need for the crew to know. 

“Oh, you’re honest with me, what a refreshing change” That is too far, isn’t it? 

“I’m… I’ve always been honest with you. I did not lie, I just…” He just wanted to keep him safe. He would have acted differently around Lovelace, and this could have set off a number of problems. So he didn’t say anything. But he also didn’t lie, nobody actually _asked,_ it’s all about the semantics.

“You _just_ kept the knowledge from me. Because that is so much better” Right. That’s the problem with Daniel - work and private life. They always managed to keep it strictly apart, but right now, it’s not working. This whole mission is too much, especially in that department, they are too close together, too harshly divided by knowledge that is need-to-know. He doesn’t know where they are with each other. Before this mission, he maybe even would have called it love. Right now… He would call it that, but only from his side. 

“Daniel-” 

“Glad we sorted that out” Kepler sighs. He sounds so angry, and he gets it, but still, he can’t be sorry. 

“Daniel what do you _want_?” For a moment, the man next to him is quiet

“To know how you’re feeling. And for you to know that I’m still here” 

“Well, Mr. Jacobi. I think you know the feeling of losing a limb” He really wants to angrily sit up, but the moment he gets his good arm out from under the blanket to loose one of the straps, he regrets it. See, feeling lightheaded in space, in actual zero gravity, is bad. Nothing is stable enough to help with it when everything floats, concussions in space are even worse than normal ones. He doesn’t pass out, that’s too much, but he also isn’t there for a moment. The world gets out of focus, it blurs the shapes, like watercolor when it rains. Blue and black and red, he hears himself groan and then pant but is floating, still strapped down.

“Warren” Daniel’s voice swims back into focus and so does the man himself. It takes almost a whole minute until he gets his breath back again. He is not floating, of course not, he is still as much secured as is possible under the circumstances. 

“It hurts” he says, a lot quieter than before, “I know my hand is not there anymore, but it hurts up to my shoulder. I’m seeing everything doubled and even the thought of moving makes me want to throw up, so how do you think I’m feeling, Daniel?!” 

“Terrible” He actually laughs at that, the tiny, almost quiet laugh Warren _loves_. It’s contagious, but laughing makes the nausea even worse and he grinds his teeth together.

“Yes, thank you” but it loses all bite, all bitterness. There is none left he could use. He is exhausted, tired, he has a vague memory of refusing painkillers but also one of a sharp sting in his arm. It makes no sense. 

“I told Minkowsky I would make sure you don’t die”

“Then kill me and get it over with, but spare me the cryptic talking” 

“Says the right one. But no. I think you’ve had enough for one day. Get some rest” Part of him wants to snap _what do you think I tried before you waltzed in here_ but he doesn’t. For whatever reason. Then again he wants to snap, because what Jacobi does it definitely not appropriate. He puts a hand on the back oh Warren’s head, close to where his head is sewn up.

“I know you can’t tell me everything, but since all of it here has… Has gone beyond protocol, I need to be able to trust you. I always did, but I can’t do it blindly anymore. Alana is dead. But right now, I can’t lose you too. You look like crap but I swear I’m going to punch you square in the face if you make a sarcastic comment now” That would be what - the sixth time today? He is actually surprised his face doesn’t hurt more. Maybe he is in shock. Maybe he is not only in shock but also on painkillers. Maybe he is just done in general or all of it at once.

“Our job doesn’t promote any safety, but I can assure you… I am not…” this is hard and he needs a moment to get himself to say it. Or not only that, it also takes time until he can open his eyes and actually look at Daniel. He is warm. Maybe Warren is in shock - there is a high chance he is not in his right mind, or he wouldn’t talk like this, “I am not overly fond of keeping things from you, or the possibility of… losing anyone. I know you won’t believe me - but I am sorry for Alana. I can’t say that I can feel the same way you do, but I understand that you are upset. And I…” He swallows, his throat is dry but his voice is steady, “I miss her” 

Jacobi looks away at the words, outside, where the blasted star seems to mock them with its red color. 

“I don’t want to die here” He won’t. 

“Me neither, Daniel”

“No, let me talk. I don’t want to die here, and I don’t want you to die. I’m done. When this is over, I’ll use everything I have and disappear. Far away from Goddard, far away from this station” He expects him to say something like _Far away from you_ , but instead, he shakes his head, “And you can come, if you want. And if I can trust you. We could make it, they are never going to find anyone better than us. When this mission is over, then it has been out last. I want out” 

He knows how he should react. Talking him down, he should remind him about their job, how it’s not easy to get out. He should say how Jacobi is a coward and how he deserves to be punished or shot for that idea. Before today, he would have said all those things. Today, he is strapped to a cot in space with a stitched up head wound, missing a hand that sets his body on fire. Every movement is agony and they are in space, everything moves. Today, he is tired, exhausted, in pain he can’t comprehend, can’t understand. 

Tomorrow will be different, tomorrow he will be back to his old self, minus a hand and plus a lot of agony he can hide. Tomorrow they’ll both go back to fighting again. And they’ll both be who they are supposed to be again. They’ll lock the pain inside, and they’ll use it to their advantage. He knows today and tomorrow, and this is all he ever really planned. Yesterday doesn’t matter, next week they might not be alive. Today and the next, not more, not less. Carrying out orders that will work on the long run, sure, the big picture, yes, he always believes in the big picture. He knows everything about it. But it’s Cutter’s plans, and he is just the tool, it counts for them, but not for him. He does what needs to be done, and he plans in hours. He can’t plan what will happen after the mission. He can try to keep Jacobi alive, at least. For now. For today and tomorrow and all the todays and tomorrows they would experience. When he looks at him, he not as badly doubled as before. Sitting still, staring out the window. Beautiful. He is… beautiful. If Warren Kepler would plan, if he could, then he would agree. Daniel plans. And if he plans to disappear after that, then he will do so. Only this is certain then. 

“Then this will be our last mission, Daniel”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)  
> shout at me on Tumblr, @strangestarlightmusic  
> Also, I know there is an actual discussion in the minisode. I'll ignore that, even if that was a really good one, because I stan Jacobi roasting Kepler.


End file.
